In the diocese of Lichfield several of these spectacles befell in the same month of September. Of three brothers, gentlemen of good estate, the eldest John Glover had long been in a state of religious insanity and notorious: and an attempt was made to apprehend him by the Bishop whose emissaries, missing him, took instead his brother Robert: whom, knowing him not to be their man, they carried to Coventry to prison for many days before the Bishop's arrival. The blame of this outrage rests however not on the Bishop, but on the Masters or burgesses of the city; one of whom was charged by Robert Glover with the guilt of his death: "he was as guilty of my blood before God as though he had murdered me with his own hands." When Baines the Bishop arrived, he was examined: he was sent back to prison: barbarously hurried from one place to another, though extremely sick till in his last prison he was laid in a cold cell without any furniture at all save a bundle of straw. The Bishop rejected the authority of the primitive Church, when Glover, who was a graduate of Cambridge, alleged it. The prisoner occupied his solitude with a Latin Testament and an English Prayer Book, which he managed to conceal. He shared the stake with Cornelius Bungay, a hatter of Coventry.** Two other martyrs, Hayward and Garraway, marked by their death the bishopric of Baines.† Chichester, the see of Day, was illuminated by the burning of Richard Hook: but the particulars are not known.‡ * Fox, iii. 351, 359. September 20. There is a mention of the Glover who was not burned, which makes it possible that there may have been something political in his case. "Information by Roger Shakespeare. Cuthbert Temple has absented himself from church a year and a quarter, and was associate with Aston, Dudley, and Bedell, now in the Tower, and one Glover of Coventry, whose brother of late was burned." Cal, of State Papers. Domest. Addenda, Mary, p. 441. + Fox. Fox, 326. Every morning at Hampton Court there was a procession to Mass, in which the King, the foreign ambassadors, and all magnates joined: which by the Queen's request marched round the palace yard, that she might behold it from a small window, whence she bowed graciously to the various personages who saluted her.* At length the hope of an heir to the kingdom, which had so long interested or amused the world, being finally dissipated, the court was broken up and removed to Greenwich. The King, the Queen, the Chancellor, and the Legate, rode in state through the city, August 26: before the King went the Chancellor, the Legate before the Queen: the Chancellor was preceded by the great seal: his cross was carried in front of the Legate: the royal household, the English and Spanish nobility, attended in splendour. The Lord Mayor and Aldermen met the cavalcade at Temple Bar. Along the road rolled a mighty crowd, shouting and saluting, running from place to place, “as if they were crazy," to feast their eyes with the unwonted and unexpected sight of their Queen in life and health.† For the rumour of the failure of hope had been followed by the alarm of the death of Mary. To show herself was the desire, to see her the delight, of her and of the people. But there were signs that the joy arose only from the personal attachment that was still felt for Mary. The demeanour of the Londoners otherwise was not so agreeable. The Cardinal Legate, as he rode in scarlet, * Michiel to the Doge, June. Ven. Cal. 100. + Ib. 173. The King however felt himself insecure among the people, and a hundred archers, mounted and armed with corselets, morions and javelins, was both an unaccustomed sight, and showed that the King "ne se tenoit trop assuré parmi ce peuple." Noailles, v. 123. The lady Elizabeth was not in the procession: but had been sent on by water all the way in a barge "assez mal en ordre," with a few gentlemen and ladies: "ce que le peuple trouva lors fort maulvois." She was now going to Mass every day, but was not quite so high in favour as she had been. Ib. made frequently the gesture of blessing: "for which he was greatly laughed to scorn." The Chancellor observed with indignation that some of the crowd put not off their caps, neither bowed at the sight of the Legate's cross.* The King and the Queen stayed but for dinner in the city, and then took the water to their further destination, to the Friars, to the chapel of Greenwich.† The sad purport of the expedition was to bid farewell to Philip, now that the Queen was restored to health: to bid him farewell, who was often summoned by his father to depart, and himself desiring long to leave a realm in which he felt himself no king: to accompany him so far on his and to fix the widowed court in the restored house of religion until he should return. A day or two later Philip departed: the Queen, divided between sorrow and dignity, in deep grief but without external emotion, accompanied him through the chambers and galleries to the head of the stairs, where he took his leave, not forgetful, by the custom of his country, while the Spanish nobles kissed her hand, of kissing on the face her tearful ladies one by one. Returning to her apartments, she remained at the window, so long as he was in sight, while he stood aloft in his way, * "I standing in Cheapside saw these four ride through Cheap, that is to say, king Philip, queen Mary, cardinal Pole, and Stephen Gardiner, Chancellor of England. This bishop rode on one side before the king, and the great seal before him: and on the other side rode the queen, and the cardinal afore her, with a cross carried afore him, he being all in scarlet, and blessing the people as he rode through the street: for the which he was greatly laughed to scorn: and Gardiner being sore offended on the other side because the people did not put off their caps, and make curtsey to the cross that was carried afore the cardinal: saying to his servants, Mark that house.' 'Take this knave and have him to the Counter.' 'Such a sort of heretics who ever saw, that will neither reverence the cross of Christ, nor yet once say so much as God save the king and queen. I will teach them to do both, an I live.' him say," &c. Mountain's Narrative in Nicholl's Refn. 210. This did I hear Narratives of the + Machyn's Diary, 93. receding barge, and prolonged his farewell by waving his bonnet. A flood of tears, as she thought unobserved, then relieved the heart of the disconsolate bride: and hourly posts or expresses flew at the gallop along the lengthening intervals of Gravesend, Rochester, Canterbury, Dover, till Philip was wafted out of reach by the squadron of twelve sail, which the Emperor sent to fetch him.* He went, accompanied by some of the flower of the English nobility, to great events: to the abdication of his weary father : to the plenitude of power, which made him despot over realms that matched the empire of Cæsar, and over regions that Cæsar never knew. The promise of his speedy return consoled, the diligent despatch of public business, which he had recommended, relieved the thoughts of Mary: and the conversation of Pole, who was provided with lodgings close at hand, was instrumental in support of patience.† Pole, in his retirement beside the Queen, beheld perhaps with the more equanimity the final failure of the hope of general peace, in which he had ineffectively busied himself, in the outbreak of the brief but disgraceful war between Philip and the Pope, in which the cities of Italy were wasted by the cruel little armies of the Holy Father and his Most Christian ally against the Most Catholic King, and the coasts of Italy were ravaged by the auxiliary squadrons of the Grand Turk. In his character of mediator, Pole had been to Calais in the spring, with Paget, Gardiner, and other commissioners; and there he had enjoyed himself thoroughly. For a circular space had been marked out and enclosed * Michiel to Doge, Sept. 3. Ven. Cal. 178. + "She writes to him daily in her own hand, and despatches couriers, demonstrating in every way her great desire, though it is not to be told how much comfort she derives from the conversation of Cardinal Pole, according to whom she gradually reconciles herself to his absence." lb. 183. See also Pole to Philip, Ib. 176: also Noailles, Ambassades, v. 84. with wood at a distance from the town, at the Queen's expense a pavilion or common hall with a table had been erected in the centre of the circle: four pavilions or tabernacles had been raised equidistant from one another on the circumference: one for the French commissioners, one for the Imperialists, one for the English, such as Paget and Gardiner, and one for the Legate: the French and Imperialists had met in the middle, exchanged compliments, and advanced their mutual claims, Pole sitting at the head of the table: they had retired to their pavilions, and come out again to confer, Pole having retired to his they had framed memorials, which they had presented, Pole remaining invisible behind the folds. of his tent: and nothing had been done.* The thing from which he was shrinking now was the archbishopric of Canterbury. Concerning this, he wrote to Cardinal Morone that he thought it not unlikely that the King and Queen might request the Pope to bid him accept the charge : that, if they did, the Pope should "liberate him from Rome for ever," and allow him to bear the burden without other obligation of service: but that he should be equally well pleased if his Holiness would employ him elsewhere and that it would be a great relief to remain without any similar post, which he would only undertake from mere obedience: that he should consider it a great favour not to be compelled to undertake any such office ; that their Majesties had not spoken to him about accepting Canterbury since his sojourn in England; but that he felt certain from what he heard that they proposed to write to his Holiness about it: and that he so desired to let his superior know his conscience.† As * Michiel, in the Venetian Cal. p. 80, gives a plan of the buildings; see also the same volume down to p. 98 for other particulars. + Pole to Morone, March 8. Ven. Cal. p. 14: a most characteristic letter. |